


Taking Orders

by spacestationwedding



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Blow Jobs, Deepthroating, Dom/sub Undertones, Exhibitionism, Extremely Dubious Consent, Face-Fucking, Facials, HYDRA Trash Party, M/M, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Post-Mission, Pre-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Prostate Massage, Prostate Milking, Wet & Messy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 16:25:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15800265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacestationwedding/pseuds/spacestationwedding
Summary: The Asset drops without hesitating, heavily onto his knees. He looks up at his master, naked and waiting for more orders. His hair had fallen into his eyes, so he shakes it away. His master told him he’d always wanted to see able his eyes, whenever they were together. Said they’re pretty. The Asset didn’t know what to make of that.





	Taking Orders

**Author's Note:**

> This is your last warning: non-consensual sex ahead. If this bothers you, please don't read!

“You were good.” 

He observes that those words don’t mean anything to him. Might have, at one point. Not anymore. 

“We’re going to try something a little new.” 

His master’s blue eyes twinkle with excitement. The Asset thinks that he looks pleased, but there is an underlying gleam of a plan under that expression. His thin mouth turns up in a hint of a smile. 

“Strip.” 

The black tac gear had been uncomfortable. He hadn’t bothered to notice before, but he thinks he preferred having them off. 

He starts with the heavy boots, yanking them off callously. Once they were removed, he arranges them neatly on the floor. His master liked him to be neat, orderly with his belongings. He moves on to his leather harness, undoing all the straps and buckles meticulously. The handlers had already stripped him of weapons, so at least he didn’t have to deal with those. The pants were next, alongside the black briefs he wore. The cold of the air curls around his genitals.

He didn’t even question the order of nudity. 

His master shifts his weight from one expensive shoe to the other. Arms crossed. The Asset recognizes his body language as restless, perhaps agitated. But he isn’t treating the Asset with cruelty. He’d said earlier that he’d done well. Maybe his annoyance isn’t with the Asset. 

“You never cease to amaze me.” His master reaches out with one hand. His knuckles trace the line of the Asset’s jaw. The Asset can smell the cologne that had been rubbed onto his wrist. It makes his nostrils flare. “So good. So obedient. Kneel.” 

That last word comes out casually, like he’s trying to prove a point. The Asset drops without hesitating, heavily onto his knees. He looks up at his master, naked and waiting for more orders. His hair had fallen into his eyes, so he shakes it away. His master told him he’d always wanted to see able his eyes, whenever they were together. Said they’re pretty. The Asset didn’t know what to make of that. 

With a gentle touch, his master cards his fingertips through the Asset’s hair. It tingles his scalp, in an interesting way. Something dances along his spine. 

They share eye contact when his master’s hand drops to his fly. Slowly, his fingers drag the zipper of his expensive grey slacks down. The Asset lets his eyes flicker down to the movement. Tutting, his master brings his attention back up.

“Eyes up here,” he commands gently. “Fail again, and you’ll be punished.”

There’s no point in threatening him. He’ll obey without it.

He hears the rustling of clothing before something warm and blunt prods at his lips. Instinctively, he parts them. This feels familiar, like he’s done it before. His master breaks their eye contact in favor of watching his cock disappear between the Asset’s lips. 

“That’s it. Just take it,” both hands hold the Asset’s skull, keeping him in place. As if he’d move without instruction. “Open wide.”

Still watching his master watching him, he relaxes his jaw as much as possible. The sensation of flesh in his mouth is strange, and tastes a little odd as well. When it nudges at the back of his throat, it feels a little wrong. But it’s warm and the Asset prefers warmth. 

Finally, his nose is buried in the rough coils of his master’s pubic hair. His chin bumps against the buckle of the loosened belt. He feels the urge to push it out, to gag, but he has orders. He can’t disobey. 

His master stares down at him for a moment, just watching. The only sounds in the room are the wet noises coming from the back of the Asset’s throat and the huff of him breathing through his nose. But then he pulls out about halfway, and thrusts back in hard.

The Asset’s throat contracts, trying to force the intrusion back out. He gags on his master’s cock, over and over again when he continues thrusting. All the while, he keeps his eyes on his master’s face. The head of his cock jams hard against the back of his throat. 

“There we go. Take it, little wider. Yes, good boy.” The praise rumbles above him. The Asset’s eyes begin to water, but he doesn’t close them. Doesn’t even blink until he absolutely has to. The brutal fucking doesn’t relent, even as he gags and gasps for air between thrusts. Saliva runs in rivulets down his chin and pools in the corners of his mouth. 

His jaw aches. It’s a good pain, though. He prefers this pain to the kind he’s experienced previously. It distracts him from the residual discomfort from the mission. 

“Good. That’s good.” The Asset doesn’t know why he’s being praised. He’s not doing anything, motionless. Just taking orders. “Do you want it?”

His brows furrow even more. Tears are streaming down his face, but his eyebrows still have room to express confusion. 

His master notices. He always notices. 

“Would you like my come?”

He sounds so composed, even as he’s fucking the Asset’s face without abandon. Sounds like he’s offering a drink to a guest at a dinner party. Still, there are little grunts and quick breaths coming from him. It’s nice to know that it’s good for him. 

But he doesn’t know the answer to the question. How is he supposed to want anything? Weapons don’t get to have desires, he knows this. They spent years drilling that into his head. 

Still, his instinct makes him nod. Because somewhere in his brain, he knows that “come” is good, it’s a reward. It means he’s done well. So, as much as he can, he nods. His eyes sting with tears. 

His master looks pleased with his answer. He adjusts his grip on the Asset’s head, switches from holding his skull to yanking on his hair. That pulls a whine from the Asset, one that he can’t control and didn’t have permission to release. That draws something more from him, a reaction. That pain felt good. 

The thrusts speed up even further, crushing the Asset’s lips against his master’s pelvis with each one. Staring up, he sees an almost pained expression cross his face. He just continues to take it. 

“Hand.” His master holds his own out expectantly. The Asset brings his left hand up. He knows he’s a weapon, and that’s all his master wants from him usually. Except, his master pulls harder on his hair. “The other one.” 

He brings up his flesh hand. His master grabs carelessly at his wrist.  

His master pulls out completely. The Asset’s mouth hangs open as he takes in deep, heaving breaths. He still keeps his eyes locked on his master’s as he guides his hand to wrap around his cock. 

The Asset can feel his own spit and phlegm that coats the length. He doesn’t know what to do with it. Confusion flashes in his eyes.

“Stroke it. Back and forth.” His master smiles when he immediately moves to obey. “You’re a true gift. We’ve done this before, you know. You don’t remember, but I think that makes it better. You’re like a virgin, every time.”

The hard cock in his hand pulses. The saliva provides enough lubrication that his fingers slip easily over it. He squeezes his hand a little tighter, noticing the little grunt his master releases at that.

“Faster.” 

The Asset strokes faster. 

His master jerks his hips to the rhythm of his stroking. 

“That’s it. So good.” Finally, his composure seems to be breaking. His voice sounds strained. “Close your eyes.”

The Asset lets his eyelids fall, trusting his master completely. He just keeps stroking, waiting for it, even though he doesn’t really know what it is he’s waiting for. The anticipation builds in his stomach. 

One final grunt is released. Something hot and wet streaks over his face, covering his tears. It makes him gasp- without permission, he chides himself- as it coats his eyelids, his cheeks, his mouth. Some of it even drips past his lips, tasting bitter and a little metallic on his tongue. 

He hears panting above him. And just listens to it, with his eyes closed and come all over his face. There’s the rustling of clothing, the clink of a belt. The sharp sound of a zipper. And then the click of footsteps. 

The Asset waits. He doesn’t worry about how long he’ll be there on his knees. It doesn’t matter to him. The hot wetness starts to cool on his skin. 

The footsteps return. Approximately at his ten o’clock position, growing nearer. His master’s calm gait. He steps up right to the Asset’s knees. 

A cold cloth wipes at his face. Slow, methodical strokes; first over his eyelids. Then across his brows, first the right and then the left. Down his cheeks. His master bypassed his lips, instead wiping over his chin. 

Instinctively, the Asset licks the remnants off of his lips. 

“Open your eyes.”

He obeys, blinking away the come that had settled in his waterline. It stings a little, but he doesn’t concentrate on that. He refocuses on his master’s face above him. 

“Well, what’s this?” He’s smirking down at the Asset’s lap. “You can look.”

Hesitantly, he drags his gaze down between his legs. He’s surprised to see his own prick is flushed and elongated. He hadn’t even realized that there was a throbbing in his groin. To his knowledge, he’s never had a reaction like that. It looks a little intimidating. 

He looks back up at his master’s face, a little troubled by his predicament. 

“I know. Tell you what.” He turned around and strode over to a drawer against the wall. “Since you were so good today, I’ll take care of it. You always like this.”

In his hands, there is a yellow glove and a small bottle. It’s half-empty, with thick, clear liquid inside. He walks back over to the Asset, leans down to murmur in his ear. It makes him shiver. 

_ “Present.”  _

Automatically, the Asset’s elbows drop to the floor. Something in his brain screams at him to keep his forehead on pressed to the tile as well. His muscles move on autopilot, spreading his legs wider. 

His master circles around him, pulls one of the doctor’s stools up. It scrapes loudly against the floor, echoing in the room. There’s a snap behind him, as his master pulls on the glove. A click of what he guesses is the bottle opening. 

A hand hooks around his hip, pulls it back a touch. The cold air of the room creeps along his backside and the exposed space between his cheeks. But then it gets even colder, and then it was wet. Liberally wet. It’s almost uncomfortable. 

Something thin rubs in circles around his asshole. His master’s fingertip, he guesses. Sparks dance along his spine. The wetness makes the movement slippery. He feels so strange, but again like he’d done this before. 

And then the finger slips past his rim. It stings, and he immediately tries to push it back out. Somehow that makes it easier, makes the pain fade away. His master eases in, stretching out his hole. The Asset is reeling, he hadn’t known that this was even a possibility. Something in his hindbrain tells him that this isn’t right- but he doesn’t want it to stop. 

And then, oh- his master crooks his finger just right. Inside of him, heat rushes intensely in a wave up his body. His eyes focus on his cock hanging between his legs. A clear drop of fluid dangles from the tip. 

“That’s it. We’re going to get you cleaned out. Do you see how wet you get for it?”

He doesn’t have permission to speak, so he just nods silently. He can see with perfect clarity how wet he is. That fingertip inside of him just keeps rubbing, massaging, teasing. It feels incredible, so much so he has to concentrate on not making any noises. His groin is throbbing. 

He doesn’t know how much time passes like that. The Asset just watches as the puddle of his fluid grows larger, connected to the tip of his prick by a thin string of it. Every minute that passes makes the pressure between his legs build in waves. He chews on his bottom lip to keep from letting out sounds- not words, he doesn’t know what sounds he wants to let out. 

Eventually, his master slips a second finger inside of him. It stretches again, but he’s relaxed. There’s barely any pain, or at least not too much for him to handle. 

“Open your mouth.” His master commands. “Let out the noises.” 

The Asset lets out a sob of relief. With his shoulders shaking from the tension, he releases all the moans that had been building under the surface. He’s never allowed to be so loud, so he takes advantage of the permission. The rolling waves of heat speed up, making his hips jerk. He flexes, trying to stop the movement. 

“Come. Be good and come.” His master strokes harder on the spot inside of him. He still doesn’t understand what that means- but his body does. It follows the command without him having to even think about it. 

The Asset cries out, feeling an incredible release rush through his body. Watching the tip of his flushed cock as more fluid, white and thick this time, spurts out in ropes. His body thrums, his prick pulses visibly. The Asset watches, amazed as the heat burns its way through him. He twitches, until finally, the sensations ebb away.

His master’s fingers slip free of him, making him feel empty. The Asset stays as still as he can, still coming down from the rush. His master stands and throws the glove away.

“Sit up.” 

He complies, automatically turning around to find his master’s eyes. They look satisfied. His master gestures to the mess that he made on the floor, nods once. 

“Lick it up.”

Slowly, he lowers his face back to the floor. His tongue darts out, laps up his own fluid- come, he corrects himself. He’s learning. It tastes just as bitter as his master’s. The Asset thinks that might be good, that they have something in common. 

His master’s eyes are trained on him, he can feel. Every drop of his come is licked away, swallowed. When he’s finished, he sits back on his haunches and waits. 

“Good,” his master purrs and strokes his hair away from his face. “It’s a shame we have to put you back under. But alas,” he waves to the technicians who have been lined up against the wall of the cryogenics lab, waiting. “We want our gift to last a long time, don’t we?”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> It's midnight and I stayed up to write this so here, have some trash. I never thought I'd write anything between Alexander Pierce and Bucky before, cause he gives me the absolute creeps. But I wanted some kinky trash and here we are lol.
> 
> btw I found this song by AFI that totally makes me think of the winter soldier everytime i hear it- it’s called “silver and cold” and it’s so good. the lyrics have so many parallels to bucky that it’s ridiculous, i highly recommend you listen.


End file.
